


'Here' is a very dangerous place

by cosmicrhetoric



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, literally the hardest thing i've ever written, otherwise known as the trio gets a flat together and deal, slight language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-14
Updated: 2014-09-14
Packaged: 2018-02-16 14:19:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2272956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosmicrhetoric/pseuds/cosmicrhetoric
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Healing takes time.<br/> <br/>“You've been the Boy Who Lived your whole life.” said Hermione gently. “And you've never enjoyed it. You can finally relax, now, Harry. You can be whoever you want Harry Potter to be.”<br/>“Where the hell am I supposed to go from here?”<br/>“We'll figure it out.” said Ron. “That's kinda our thing.”</p><p>(post deathly hallows. canon compliant)</p>
            </blockquote>





	'Here' is a very dangerous place

**Author's Note:**

> Canon compliant, besides Hermione's 'mudblood' scar. Most people count that as book canon anyway.   
> Loosely based on Young the Giant's Cough Syrup

They had all ended up back at the Burrow, somehow, Harry laying on Ron's bed, tossing the now broken Snitch and catching it again. Ron was...somewhere. Doing something. Hermione, predictable Hermione, was unpacking her beaded bag on the floor, only a few paces from him.

He knew what a big deal this was for her, unpacking. Hermione had put it off for weeks now, and slowly, tentatively, she had started removing books as she needed them. It meant she was letting go, that she was relaxing. Hermione, out of all of them, had seemed the most changed. She was jittery now. She had always been cautious, but now Harry could almost say she verged on paranoid.

Harry sat up, catching the Snitch a final time. She sat with her back to him, and her hair was smacked into a heavy bun on top of her head. He could see the fine scars on the back of her neck- did Bellatrix give her those?

“I would've liked,” he started as Hermione whipped around.”to stay at Hogwarts for a little longer.”

The witch relaxed. “That's understandable.” she said, tossing _Unfogging the Future_ into a large pile to her right. “We only got a few days there, and it was supposed to be our last year. And there was _so_ much chaos.”

“Supposed to be our last year-it's not like _you're_ not going back.”

“Don't sound so accusatory, Harry.” said Hermione primly. “You were given the choice to as well.”

Harry groaned, falling back onto the bed. “Yes but-the Death Eaters are still out there. Plus I'd have to deal with those stupid rumors and those looks.”

Hermione grinned-he couldn't even see her face and he knew she was grinning. “Don't act like the Auror training program isn't everything you wanted.”

“What are they going to teach us that we don't already know?”

“I don't know, everything I covered your arse for last year. Honestly, Harry. Kingsley's leading the program, even as Minister, it'll be brilliant.”

“I heard he called dibs on you as an intern for when you finish your NEWTs.” said Harry, smiling at the ceiling. “Where's Ron?”

“How am I supposed to know?”

Harry raised himself up on one elbow to give her a look. Hermione flushed.

“Well, okay, just because we're-we're- _together_ , doesn't mean-”

“You are so embarrassing.” said Harry.

Hermione threw a book at him, and Harry grunted as it hit his stomach. “I think he's with Ginny. Mrs. Weasley asked something from them, for the...yeah. They're out.”

She was about to say 'funeral'. Neither of them could let that happen. Harry pushed himself up suddenly, pocketing the Snitch.

“Right. I'm gonna just...see if she needs anything.”

Hermione had returned her attention to her bag before he left the room

* * *

 

On second thought, he rather hated dress robes. Harry picked at the sleek cloth on his sleeve, hating how they looked so similar to his Hogwarts robes and yet characteristically different. He was in the larder with a bottle of firewhiskey, an old Prewett watch, along with some very distressing dress robes. On the outside, Harry supposed people hadn't started looking for him yet, which was good. He didn't want to get caught up in all of that just yet.

The watch Mrs. Weasley had gifted him belonged to her brother. It lay flat in Harry's palm as he traced the constellations of stars that whizzed across it's face. Gideon and Fabian Prewett had been twins as well, hadn't they?

And that was the real reason he was here, Harry figured. He had seen George blood spattered and earless, and positively white with terror, but he had never seen the man at a funeral. Harry was sure he never wanted to. Percy, somehow, was almost worse. The entire family was subdued, even George, but Percy wailed and beat his breast and tore at his hair, and it stung at a very deep, secret part of Harry. When he saw Fred's magically preserved body, the ghost of a smile still gruesomely etched on his face, Harry could only see Sirius falling through the veil. Over and over, like clockwork, the image of Sirius' last smile seemed to be behind his eyelids.

And Percy? Percy behaved just as Harry had that night.

The door creaked open, but Harry made no effort to hide the alcohol. Guilt hit as he realized what a picture he must make. Molly Weasley finding him like this-drunk and desolate- could possibly be the worst thing that had ever happened to him. He saw red hair through his peripherals, and closed his eyes.

A small hand closed around the bottle in his lap, and Harry sighed. He had hoped it wouldn't be her.

“And this is how he would've wanted to go out.” said Ginny, taking a swing. Harry opened his eyes. She had seated herself across from him, the red in her hair clashing marvelously with her purple dress.

Both Ginny and George had refused to wear black.

“Alcohol consumed in secret as we hide from my mother.” Ginny continued.”This is the most Fred thing you've ever done, Potter.”

“You don't want to hear this.” said Harry, throat croaking.

“Don't want to hear what, your 'it's all my fault' pity party? Damn straight. But I refuse to be out there too, and I'm sure George has already sneaked away, so you're stuck with me.”

“Ginny-”

“Don't you dare tell me I make it worse, either.” snapped the girl. She passed him the bottle, and Harry dutifully took a swing. “Cause I don't.”

But she _did_ , she was so bright it hurt to look at her. Harry felt tears gather behind his eyes, and looked down. She never openly weeped; how could he?

Ginny sighed. “Hey, would now be a good time to talk about our relationship status?”

He looked up, gasping, almost upset. “What do you mean?”

“Harry.”

“I-I can't just...”

“Right.” said Ginny, standing, She crossed over to Harry, stooped, and kissed his forehead. She was barefoot. “It's okay. Chin up, Harry. We'll sort it out later.”

“Do we _have_ later?”

Ginny turned, slowly, from her place at the door, and sent him a truly dazzling, genuine smile. “Time is all we've got, Harry.”

He let his head hit a shelf as she left. Time was all they had, true. With everything(everyone) they had lost, _time_ , they suddenly had all the possibility in the world. Harry could leave the training program and go become a painter, and there would be no Voldemort to bring him back. The press may object, and the still-free Death Eaters needed to be dealt with, but Harry had no more 'destiny'. He had worked his whole life for the absence of destiny, but now that he had it, he felt-

Empty.

The door opened again, with slightly more force. Ron and Hermione strode in, took in the sight that was Harry, and plopped down next to him, one on either side.

“Lecture me later, alright?” asked Harry, eyes half closed. “Skipping a funeral, drunk in the only maternal figure I've known's larder-”

“Shut up.” said Ron. “Hermione?”

“Yes.” She pulled up her black robes, where her beaded bag was still strapped to her thigh. Maybe she wasn't as relaxed as Harry thought. Hermione dug around in it for a moment before producing a large bottle of Ogden's finest. She uncorked the bottle with a tap of her wand, and took a measly swing before handing it to Harry.

Harry drank, grateful. “Thanks.”

“Don't mention it.” she said simply.

Ron clapped him on the shoulder. He seemed already a little drunk. “Got your back, mate.”

“I think I've realized that by now.” deadpanned Harry, and he gave a small, bitter laugh. He handed the bottle to Ron.

Ron frowned. “Look, Harry, you're not going to get anywhere if you don't give us a heads up. We need to...know when you're going to go off the deep end.”

“ _Ronald_. What he means, Harry is that you need to talk to us.”

Harry stared at their earnest faces, and remembered the guilty looks on their faces everytime they had spoken behind his back that year. And consecutively, remembered every single time Ron and Hermione truly had his back.

So for perhaps the first time in his life, he decided to be honest with them from the get-go. “I, uh, Ginny said something strange. She was here just now.”

“She told us where to find you.” admitted Ron. “What'd she say?”

“She said that time is all we have. And this is going to go back to the whole Chosen One thing, so brace yourselves-” the look on Hermione's face was expectant. She had so seen this coming. “But I don't know what I'm gonna do with all this time. I always thought I was on a clock, yeah? And that night, at the castle, I knew it for sure. I mean, it's like Quidditch.”

Harry was floundering now, trying to find some way to get it across to them. “Like in Quidditch, we always play to win. We've _lost_ , yeah, but we always go into a game thinking we're gonna win. So we've always...done our thing assuming that we would win, but it's not like we actually expected to. I didn't expect to win that night with the dementors, back in third year, but I tried playing like I did. So now, we won. Voldemort's gone. We have all this time, and I haven't prepared for _any_ of it.”

“Give me back the bottle.” said Hermione. Ron blinked, and handed to her. “Harry, it's not like we were actively preparing for anything that we've ever done together. At all.”

“Yeah, I winged it half of it.” said Harry, a little cross. “But I don't even have my NEWTs, Merlin.”

“Your choice.” reminded Hermione.

“You know what I think?” said Ron. “I reckon that you know that you can do anything right now, you don't need to 'prepare' for it cause you're Harry Bleeding Potter, and anyone'll take you. But you still think you're gonna screw up.”

Hermione was looking mighty proud. “Neither can live while the other survives.” blurted Harry. His friends blinked. “What if it means, what if it _really_ means that I'm nothing without him. Voldemort. I haven't got a reason to exist if he's gone. If he's really gone.”

“He is.” said Ron firmly.

“You've been the Boy Who Lived your whole life.” said Hermione gently. “And you've never enjoyed it. You can finally _relax_ , now, Harry. You can be whoever you want Harry Potter to be.”

Harry stared at the ceiling, tears in his eyes for the second time. “Where the hell am I supposed to go from here?”

Ron and Hermione scooted a little closer to him, until the were touching. “We'll figure it out.” said Ron. “It's kinda our thing.”

* * *

 

"You guys really don't need to come with me." said Hermione, but she was smiling so brightly it immediately negated everything she said.

"Don't even." said Ron, lugging her trunk behind him as they neared the barrier to Platform 9 and 3/4. "Merlin, woman, how many books did you  _take_? Couldn't you have Undetectable Extension Charm'd this?"

"I did, actually." said Hermione primly. "Don't call me woman, it's demeaning."

"Sorry."

"But really." she continued. "This is unnecessary and probably isn't allowed."

"Oh come on, Hermione." said Harry. "We never got our last train ride to Hogwarts. We may as well hitch a ride with yours, and like Ron said at the Burrow-"

"They're not exactly going to kick us out." nodded Ron. "Plus, we have a surprise for you!"

"Should I be frightened?"

"Yes." said Harry, at the same time that Ron said "Hell no!" 

The taller boy looked a little injured. 

"Come on, come on, through the barrier with you." said Ron, giving Hermione a little push. She gave a small giggle, and took to the wall with a brisk pace. A wall of tourists passed between them, and when they had cleared out, Hermione was gone. Harry looked at Ron.

"I kind of want to hold hands." he said very seriously. Ron snorted.

"You  _shithead_." But still, he did grab Harry's hand with his free one. Harry grinned up at him, and Ron's ears turned a little pink. It was all very ' _together or not at all',_ but Harry had crossed the barrier with Ron eight years ago and he intended to do the same they very last time they crossed.

"Last one to's a flobberworm-" said Harry, before taking off in a dead sprint, dragging Ron behind him. Ron spluttered, Hermione's trunk dragging behind him, swearing all the way.

"Honestly, Ron, there are children present!" exclaimed Harry as they emerged on the other side. He burst into laughter, which quickly sputtered off as he realized that no one else on the platform was making any noise. It was dead quiet. And all eyes were fixed on them.

Harry swallowed. He forgot about this part. Hermione stepped towards them warily. "Yeah." she said. "I didn't remember either."

Their isolated summer at the Burrow seemed like a far away dream. Harry nodded. "We wanted to come so we could help you with this bit too." he said as the whispers started. "We didn't realize it may be worse with all three of us."

"Hey, at least they don't want autographs." said Ron, shrugging. "Come on, let's get your trunk up there, Hermione."

"Not yet they don't." grumbled Harry, but he helped Ron with the exceptionally heavy trunk.

 _"Harry Potter!"_ exclaimed a loud voice. Harry's eyes narrowed as he turned to face the red faced blonde woman struggling to put on her spectacles with long, crimson talons.

"What do you want?" he said roughly. Rita Skeeter simpered, played offense. 

"So rude, and I thought we parted on amiable terms? I did write that article for you, after all. Exclusive interview, ' _Potter Accuses' -"_

"Yeah, and then you wrote a fifty page chapter on why Dumbledore made me psychotic." Harry said. "And you were being  _blackmailed_ by Hermione."

"Ah yes." said Hermione, appearing by Harry's shoulder. "Good times. Remember that year I held you in a _jar_ , Rita?"

Rita's smile turned bitter. "Little Miss Perfect, I heard you were ever the studious one. Fancy seeing the rest of you here-oh, hello Weasley."

"Get lost." said Ron.

"Like you weren't staking out the platform." snorted Hermione. "It's common knowledge that I was coming back, and you are always in search of your next scoop. You figured Harry and Ron would come with me."

Skeeter rolled her eyes. "Clever girl, but no. I'm following another story here, actually."

"What would that be?" asked Hermione.

"Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini, and Pansy Parkinson have been rumored to return for the same deal you were offered, Granger." said Rita, a positively dangerous smile growing on her face. "I can see it now-nice, big blown up picture of Azkaban on the cover, perhaps a mug shot or two, ' _Death Eaters Return: Is Hogwarts Safe?'_ "

"Don't be ridiculous." snapped Hermione.

"McGonagall knows what she's doing." said Harry. Ron raised an eyebrow at him. "What? They lost people too, and no one really got much studying done last year."

"Aaaand, there they are!" said Rita Skeeter, pointing at the barrier. Narcissa and Draco Malfoy warily moved forward, glancing this way and that. Harry hadn't noticed the general platform noise returning, but he certainly noticed when it subsided again. Somehow, it was more sinister than before.

"Leave them alone, Skeeter." said Ron. "They have the rest of the school on their backs-not that they didn't deserve it, but-"

"I'm playing to the masses." she snapped. "Goodbye, trio. I hope our paths never cross but in print."

Rita Skeeter pushed through the crowd, and Harry turned to Hermione. "Hey-"

"I'll look after them." she said firmly. "Well, as much as reason admits." she fingered the loose scars on her wrists, and shuddered. 

"That's all anyone can ask of you." said Harry, smiling a little. Ron rolled his eyes, and seized one end of the forgotten trunk. 

"A compartment, then?"

* * *

 

Hermione, Harry, and Ron all hopped off onto the platform at Hogsmeade. Almost immediately, she leapt on the both of them, enveloping them in a tight hug.

"I'm going to miss you too so much!" she cried. Her feet weren't even on the ground anymore.

Harry and Ron grinned. "You'll be seeing us sooner than you think."

"Excuse me?" said Hermione, pulling her face away from their shoulders. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"We'll walk you to the carriages." said Ron mysteriously.

"Have you two accepted McGonagall's offer? Cause I saw her last week and she didn't say anything about it."

"Nope, we're still enrolled in the training program." said Harry. They steered her down the road, where thestrals waited.

All three of them could see the horses now, Harry realized. He glanced back at the rest of the student body. How many of them could see?

Hermione made no visible reaction to the horses besides a slightly sad look crossing over her eyes. Ron, however, nearly jumped. Even he contained himself.

As they stopped by the very first thestral, Harry pointed at the building to the right. "Hey, check it out."

Hermione squinted at the sign in the window. "'Rooms for Rent'? I didn't know people could rent rooms out here, but I suppose it's kinda necessary source of income."

"Actually this is the first renting building in the village." said Ron. 

"How'd you know that?"

"Well, because I bought it." said Harry simply. "The building, not the room, I just figured it would be smart to rent out a few rooms-"

"You  _what_?" cried Hermione. "Oh my god,  _Harry!"_

He grinned. "Surprise?"

"But-"

"There's a flat on the top floor, I bought it for us. All of us, when you leave school. I just wanted a-"

"A safe place." said Hermione, her hands covering her mouth, tears in her eyes. 

"Yeah." said Harry, a little embarrassed. "And Ron and I can Floo, I made sure to hook up the fireplace. So we're still doing our training program. We just live here."

"And you can visit when ever you want." said Ron. "I mean, even on non-Hogsmeade days."

"Yeah." said Harry again, digging through his pockets. "Here, you didn't ask for it but if you're going to see us from time to time..."

He handed her both the Map and his neatly folded Invisibility cloak. "I'm not going to use it. Like you said, I need to learn how to function without it. Do all the stuff you covered us for last year."

Hermione threw herself at the both of them again, openly weeping. "I. Love. You. Guys. So. Much."

"Hey, he paid." said Ron, ears red. Hermione laughed, pulled back, and kissed him.

"Okay, ugh." said Harry. "Hermione, you're still holding us together, this is gross, I never wanted to be this close to either of your mouths-"

 "Sorry." Hermione laughed. She hopped off the both of them. "I should go. I thought this was going to be a whole lot more painful, but it turns out I'm going to see you before Christmas."

"See you." said Harry. Ron saluted.

"I love you both very much." she said sincerely, before turning and getting into a carriage. 

* * *

**_Hogwarts: Back for another disastrous year?_ **

_Daily Prophet correspondent Rita Skeeter strikes again, addressing the number one question on most parent's minds: Is Hogwarts safe?_

_"Now let's look at its track record." says Dorea Fenwick, 38, who's niece is a third year at Hogwarts. "We have giant snakes and escaped prisoners, and now_ Dumbledore _is dead. What's left to think? Death Eaters in the castle-my girl attended Durmstrang, you know."_

_Ms Fenwick certainly has the right idea. Even with Hogwarts' failures, however, it still remains the number one school for young European wizards._

_But Hogwarts cannot even boast that anymore! With the previous year's academic failures, currently blamed on a small change in political power, most of the students are repeating a year. With the addition of famed Hermione Granger, straight laced, buck toothed heroine of the Wizarding world, Hogwarts has many seventh years or otherwise, considering that Ms Granger didn't even attend last year, staying at the castle for further instruction._

_Granger was a driving force in the anti-You-Know-Who campaign, spear headed by Boy Who Lived Harry Potter, and a personal friend of the author's. Upon meeting the two of them at the train platform on September the first, they had greeted attractive, blonde Skeeter well._

_"Good times," Ms Granger had said warmly, as they spoke about the groundbreaking article penned by yours truly, in which Potter himself had asked to be interviewed._

_But even the Golden Trio(with the addition of a Ron Weasley) couldn't mask their concerns._

_Several ex-Death Eaters or children of said Death Eaters are also repeating their year. Weasley had said for the Slytherins to 'get lost', as Mr. Potter rolled his eyes an awful lot._

_Draco Malfoy, Pansy Parkinson, Daphne Greengrass, and several others in the serpent's house are returning to Hogwarts._

_(continued on page 3)_

* * *

"What the ever loving hell?" cried Hermione. She threw her paper at the lit fire, and then reluctantly Summoned it back so she could read the rest of it.

Harry ran a hand through his hair, sighing. "I know, right?"

"My teeth have been  _straightened!_ "

"Hermione-"

"Not to mention she completely misquoted you two." she said. Hermione's feet were propped up on Ron's lap as they all sat at the small dining table in their flat. Sun was shining through the windows, it was early Saturday morning, and Harry was trying and failing to make toast. Hermione had come straight down, the  _Daily Prophet_ clutched in her fist. Honestly, Harry was a little scared to see how she had snuck out so easily. He wasn't that good at it,and he had greater experience with both Cloak and Map.

"'Good times', I was being  _sarcastic_."

"I didn't even see her Quill out." said Ron. "And a 'small change in political power'? Really?"

"I think she's using some kind of recording spell." said Hermione darkly. "One that's somehow not illegal. What I'd give to  get one over her again-"

"Enough about Skeeter." said Ron, exchanging a quick, worried glance with Harry. They had been speaking about Hermione lately- Harry furrowed his brow, trying not to look conspicuous. "How's Hogwarts, Hermione?"

"Good." said Hermione, but she shrugged, tapping the Head Girl badge inexplicably pinned on her sleeveless top. "I had to use the badge to get out of tighter security though-nearly got caught coming down here this morning. Everyone's trying to get back to normal. It's not pretty, some of the second years have been traumatized. We're working on it but the younger students are going to take some therapy to ever be...happy again."

The mood in the sunny kitchen darkened. "How are the Slytherins?" asked Harry. It seemed all they did was dance around topics none of them wanted to dwell on.

"Oh fine." said Hermione, seeming surprised by the question. "They keep to themselves a lot. I've had a right time trying to keep the other Houses from straight up  _mauling_ them, though."

"It wasn't their fault." It slipped out, and Harry felt almost a little guilty for saying it. Hermione looked at him sharply.

"No, Harry, of course it wasn't." she said. "It's like I've been saying all along, about House unity-the Sorting Hat's song was right  _dismal_ this year, by the way."

"Isn't it always?" said Ron. 

Hermione laughed. 'Don't be mean, it's an old hat with a good sense of rhyme and literally nothing to do fr an entire school year. But you know all of this, talk to me about Auror training."

Harry and Ron both groaned loudly, and Hermione stifled another giggle. "It can't be that bad."

"It's not, really." said Harry. "Actually, it's downright fantastic. But well-Ron, you show her first."

Ron rolled up his shirt to display an impressive smattering of purple and yellow bruises. Hermione gave a small cry.

"That's barbaric!"

"Nah." said Ron as Harry pulled up his sleeve to show Hermione his bruises. The witch almost instantly reached for the beaded bag now slung around her waist. "No, Hermione, don't bother with the dittany. It won't take. These are cause by the sheer force of spells, rather than what the spell actually does, yeah? That's what we're learning to do, how to throw physical spells."

"That would be really useful while dueling." admitted Hermione. She propped her elbow up on the table and let her face rest on her palm, her free hand playing with the thin reminder of the curse she had been hit with fifth year, in the Department of Mysteries. "And this is part of basic training?"

"There's a lot of Shield Charm stuff you'd probably know, Hermione." said Harry, nodding. "Like the difference between a Flambaum and a Rosen shield."

The look Hermione threw him was pure sarcasm. "Harry, I  _invented_ a Shield Charm last summer. I know my Rosen's."

"Speaking of," started Ron. "Have you thought about the Auror force?"

Hermione laughed. "As a career? When I leave school?"

"Yeah." said Harry. He couldn't think of anything better, especially if they landed on the same team(and who would dare split them?). Harry reacted best with Ron and Hermione at his back. 

But Hermione shook her head. "Even if I am a  _fantastic_ dueler, I don't think it's my cup of tea. I'd like to fight on a slightly more difficult-no, that's not the right word, convoluted- playing field. Magical law, I've been looking at."

"You said lawyers didn't do any good in the world." said Ron.

"I plan to change that." said Hermione simply. She glanced at the Muggle alarm clock on the counter, and gasped. "Merlin, I've got to get back. I've got a study session with Daphne Greengrass, who by the way, is an excellent person to bounce ideas off of. Go figure."

She kissed Harry on the cheek and Ron on the mouth, and after enveloping them both into a hug, took the Cloak and hurried down the stairs of the old building.

Harry and Ron watched her walk confidently through the streets through their window, and exchanged a glance.

"She seems relaxed." said Ron. "Better."

Harry nodded. "And she wasn't wearing sleeves, that's a good sign, right? Considering-" considering the scars. Hermione's arms were laced with tiny white scars, from the chandelier at Malfoy Manor, from Bellatrix, from the Battle, and the Deparment of Mysteries. She had spent the entire summer covering the scars on her arms, legs, and neck with long, baggy clothing, only occasionally wearing her 'mudblood' scar proudly at rallies and special occasions.

Still, no one liked to advertise their trauma. 

* * *

 

The door to the Room of Requirement opened slowly. Ginny turned around, expecting a teacher-Prefect-, but no, it was just Hermione, leading a small third year boy.

"Come on, dear." said Hermione kindly. She led him to one of the many soft purple beds in the room, and sat next to him. "You're safe here."

Ginny glanced at Hermione from behind the kid's back, mouthing 'Another one?'. Hermione shrugged.

The room had a low ceiling, was draped with light purple curtains and silver stars, and was outfitted with a shelf of every Calming Draught invented. Beds scattered around were mostly occupied, all by young students. Hermione crossed over to Ginny.

"That's what, nine in one night?" whispered the younger girl. "We're getting a bit full."

"The room will expand."

"But people are going to start noticing that kids aren't sleeping in their dormitories."

"I'm pretty sure McGonagall already knows." said Hermione. "She knows everything that goes on in the younger years. We running low on anything?"

"Um, some of that lily scented thing-"

"The Pullman draught." said Hermione, grinning. "Didn't you get an O in Potions?"

"I did, Fred and George said they'd never forgive me-" Ginny stopped short, her face becoming pale. "Oh. Shit.  _Shit_."

Hermione had her arms around Ginny in a heartbeat. "Breathe."

"I-can't-"

"You  _can._ "

"No, I-I have to get out of here. I need something to throw or-something to punch, oh no, oh no-"

Hermione bit her lip, silently wishing Neville was there( _wishing Harry was there_ ) and hugged Ginny tighter. "Go. Go. There are some fireworks in my bag. Go blow up a cupboard."

"Thank you." said Ginny, still hyperventilating, still shaking, but with a slightly manic look in her eyes as she unwound herself from Hermione and ran out of the safe place.

* * *

 

"Oh, I'm sorry,  _how_ many push ups can you do, Potter?"

"Merlin, shut up, Seamus."

Seamus' grinning face was far too close to his own, and Harry felt himself getting hot in the face. 

"I will not, just wait. I'm going to write the _Prophet_ about this, I can do more push ups than Harry Freaking Potter-"

"Shut up."

He wasn't even yelling, his voice was low, even. Measured. But Seamus backed off, eyes widening. "Sorry, mate, I didn't mean to-shit. Sorry."

Harry turned around, stowing his practice clothes in his metal locker. They were the only two people in the locker room. "It's fine."

"No, it's not." said Seamus, and god, he was making Harry feel even worse with how sincere he seemed to be. "Do you want to grab lunch with Dean and I? I mean-you shouldn't be here alone."

"I'll be fine, Seamus." said Harry, actually giving the sandy haired man a quick smile. "Go on. Isn't it, hold up, isn't it your anniversary?"

Seamus' eyes widened. "Fuck. That's why he wanted to-I'm gonna go, Potter."

"See you later, Finnigan." said Harry as the other man pelted out of the room. Harry sighed, alone, and walked briskly back into the training room.

He had to be ready. For anything.

Harry wiped sweat off his forehead, and started another simulation program.

* * *

 

Hermione arrived one night at their flat, late and shivering. Ron let her in without a word as she dripped on the carpet.

"Can I stay here tonight?"

Harry got up off his chair, where he had been polishing his wand. "Er-of course."

"Thank you." said Hermione  stiffly. She looked around before Ron grabbed her a towel.

"Here. You're soaked, is it raining?"

Hermione toweled off her hair and made no move to performing a drying charm. She sank into a wooden chair, Ron and Harry quickly taking up spots next to her. "Do you want us to ask what happened?" asked Ron, very seriously.

"No." said Hermione. "Nothing happened. I just can't stay there tonight."

Harry nodded. He knew, they all did, that it would be difficult going in to Hogwarts without feeling a very confusing myriad of emotion. He was impressed Hermione had lasted so long. "You know you have a room, right?"

She looked up at him. "What?"

"I bought this for all of us." said Harry. "Your room's next to mine."

"Thank you." said Hermione softly. She bit her lip. "But-"

"Yeah." said Ron. 

Within the next ten minutes, they had pulled every blanket and sheet from the flat and piled it into their living room, creating a giant mess of a blanket fort. Ron flopped down first, pulling Hermione down with him, and Harry followed until they were a warm mass of limbs and Hermione's hair. Harry burrowed somewhere near Hermione's head, and there were arms around him somewhere, and he had never felt more  _warm_. He had never, of course, built a blanket fort before.

"We did this thing. Ginny and I." said Hermione, her vice slighly muffled. "In the Room of Requirement, every time we found a kid who was having nightmares or who was just-scared, we'd take them to this room and we'd give them a calming potion and we'd watch over them."

Harry could hear a soft sob. "But there are so many, so many kids, and they are all so sad. We weren't that sad when we were twelve. But we had Hogwarts. We had what the castle was  _supposed_ to be, and they don't. They don't have anything but PTSD. Twelve is too young, too young!"

"I'm not over it yet." said Ron quietly. "I don't think I'll ever be. Maybe if I didn't see Mum crying into his sweaters every week, or if his shop wasn't looming over us everytime we go into Diagon Alley, or if I didn't have to look at George. That's the worst. I'd almost rather both of them be gone."

And Harry thought about all the extra hours he had pulled in training, because the bruises made him feel _clean_ , because he could never feel worth all of this sacrifice, because he was just trying to pay them all back. For their lives. For their children. "I'm really fucked up." he said. There was a pause, and together, Ron and Hermione let out a watery chuckle.

"Yeah no kidding, mate."

"Same boat, Harry."

Harry grinned, and turned over. As long as he had them, he'd be okay.

* * *

 

 "How have I never been here?' asked Ginny, as she turned in a slow circle around the living room. "Honestly. Ron. Ron, you should have invited me."

Ron groaned, loudly. Harry laughed. "You're here now."

"That I am." said Ginny, turning to him suddenly. "Where's Hermione?"

"She's been in her room for hours." said Ron. Ginny picked up her gray bag. 

"Lovely." she said. "I'm going to go help her."

"The gala isn't for another four hours!"

She scoffed at her brother, and quickly hurried to the first bedroom door. "Hermione?"

There was a squeak from inside. Ginny nodded, sagely, and pushed open the door before locking it behind her.

Hermione was sitting at her dresser, staring at her hair hopelessly. "I can't do this." she whispered. 

Ginny threw her bag on the bed and marched over. "Oh come on. Put it in a bun, you have great skin and now is a good time to-oh. That's not what you were talking about, right?"

"They're all going to be expecting some war hero." whispered Hermione. "And I can't even talk to the boys about it because they're in the same boat, and Harry's got it worse than I, but I can't live up to those kind of expectations."

Ginny frowned. "You are a war hero, Hermione." She took a seat on the bed. "But you know what's great about you? That's not  _all_ you are. You're smart and brave and you are so loyal to your boys-you've been though so much you could never be defined with something as simple as 'war hero'. That's what they're expecting, this phenomenal woman that went through heaps and heaps of trauma and still retained a personality. You are-amazing. I'd tell you to just be yourself, but who you are, Hermione, that's-"

Hermione blinked. "Hermione Jean Granger." she said to herself, so quiet Ginny could barely hear it. She spoke again, louder. "I don't think I could ever forgive myself if a Memorial Gala brings me down. Not after Voldemort. Not after  _Bellatrix_. Strong. Like an amazon."

"Right." said Ginny. She looked at her clasped hands. "There are so many new ghost's deathday's today, have you realized?"

"I have." she answered. "I'm sorry, Ginny."

"I'm not." said the redhaired girl. "Not for him. I lost him, but if I'm ever sorry for what he did, that means there was no point to his death. I can never be sorry for him."

Hermione looked at Ginny, who's eyes weren't even a little glassy. "He'd be so proud, Ginny. He always was. After Quidditch one day, I remember he said it aloud."

"God I hope not, the team was shit when I first joined." Ginny lifted her chin. "Now let me help you with your hair."

"Help me with my eyes." said Hermione, thankful the moment had passed. "I'm good with buns."

* * *

"Oh, sorry Gin, I'll-"

"Stay, it's fine." said Ginny. She was just finishing her hair, Ron and Hermione were in Hermione's room, and Harry just had to stumble in now. "I'm nearly done."

She was curling her long red hair into loose ringlets. Harry sat next to her, noticeably awkward, and Ginny tried to focus on how aggravating it was. It wasn't cute at all, the way his ears were turning red. It wasn't. Harry mumbled something.

"What?"

"I said, I like it better straight."

It was Ginny's turn to blush. She was used to compliments, but somehow the stray, half compliment from Harry Potter's mouth could still knock her off balance.

She _had to stop thinking about his mouth_.

"Well, Rita Skeeter doesn't." said Ginny, recovering. Harry groaned.

"Is she covering the gala tonight? Bloody hell."

"I know, right?" said Ginny. "I'd have thought the would never let her back on, but that ruddy book was  _so_ popular. Hence the hair curling."

Harry shrugged. "I still think it looks better straight. Not that you  _don't_ look nice now, you're still pretty, you'd probably be pretty without any hair at all, I'm just saying-"

She was still in love with him. And he was still in love with her, Ginny realized. 

"Harry?"

"Y-Yeah?"

"We put off a conversation a while ago." said Ginny, turning to stare at him. He had to know she was not backing down. Not this time, there was one thing Ginny Weasley didn't do well, and that thing was  _surrender_. 

Harry looked down, and she grit her teeth. "Look at me."

"Is now the best time to be having that conversation?" he asked quietly.

"Yes."

"We've both changed. A lot. In more ways than I had thought." said Harry, finally meeting her gaze.

It was like Ginny's whole world was crashing down. That was a break up line, textbook, and she was never fazed by break ups(she was the one who did the breaking) but this wasn't just anything. He was ruining any possibility of them ever being together, and she couldn't let that happen. She looked at him, eyes blazing.

"Okay." she hissed. "Sure. Whateve-"

Harry pushed himself forward just then, and kissed her hard. His glasses ended up slipping off as he rather clumsily attempted to either bring her closer or scoot forward himself, until Ginny got with the program and cupped his face, deepening the kiss. Her brain seemed to short out, and it retreated in the happy, pink, kissing mode it normally went too every time Harry's face was too close to her's as he slid a hand into her freshly curled hair. 

"Hey- _shit fucking shit-_ "

Ron, Ginny figured. She mentally rolled her eyes, and didn't let Harry pull away in his shock. She was going to continue kissing this boy until she died from lack of air. He wasn't exactly fighting her on that decision, either. 

 No, she didn't they'd stop for quite some time.

* * *

 

 "We have some ways to go." said Hermione, up on the podium. She looked radiant, in white, her hair bound, with all of her whitewhite scars shining in the spot light. She bared her throat, and Bellatrix's knife cut was thrown in relief. "But we'll recover. I know the kind of people the Wizarding World produce. I know that they are strong, and brave, and even if they aren't, they still step up. I know all of this. I know it'll be hard. Our work's not over yet, and everyone's wondering where we can go from here. How can we move on? How can we live, breathe, without our loved ones? The place we are right now-it's a very dangerous place. Today is a turning point. Today is an anniversary of the day we changed. It only serves as proof that we can change for the better-that we  _will_ change for the better. So we're going to keep fighting, all of us. Every single one of you is going to fight to make our world a place fit for our own children."

Harry, next to her, looked out at the shining white tomb by the lake. Reporters and attendees all crowded on the Hogwarts grounds, listening to Hermione speak, and he felt like he could see Albus Dumbledore there, almost. Each new face in the crowd made him think of Lily's hair, of Remus' smile, of Fred's laugh, and he knew the Resurrection Stone was still lost, but Harry couldn't help a single tear. He wasn't alone.

They would all be okay.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I actually teared up trying to write this. I am so emotional about these kids I just busted this out
> 
> I'm bellatrixbtch on tumblr, come say hello!


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